takethembystorm - Tumblr blog

[takethembystorm]

The first part is Jimmy and Jonesy repeating the main guitar riff to get it in their heads. The second part is Jimmy, Jonesy and Bonzo trying to figure out the main riff, with Robert singing made up words so they can know their cues. They get it right near the end.

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I’m an idiot?  First off, I never get messages that “notes” have been left on my posts, so that sucks.  I suppose I need to check my settings.  But the notes section itself - here, for example, it says there are 4 notes and it’s blank.  So, what the hell?  Help!

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Magical Scotland

I have thought about this for years.... visiting and/or moving to Scotland.  Sure, I wait until the pandemic that is seemingly endless.  Yay me.  My ancestors are Scottish.  My heart calls for Scotland.  I am miserable in the United States.  All countries make it difficult to visit/stay for any period or time/relocate.  So they should be.  

I’m nearing 60.  I will be 59 in October and thought, OK, for my birthday I’m going to save my pennies and visit Scotland.  The pandemic worsens.  My son attacks me for not being part of the family and saying I’m materialistic.  Materialistic?  I’ve supported the family (2 adult children now over 30) with no help from their father, and my grandson (whom I would support forever) with no help from either parent. 

I suppose wanting to find my bliss, and be happy is being materialistic.  I feel like I’m losing my mind.  No one here wants me happy or at least happy enough to do what I want to outside of taking care of all of them.  I guess that’s the point isn’t it?  

One has to think, at some point, when the fuck is it my turn?  I’m running out of time.  60 is the new 40, my ass - maybe for some - not for me.  All I want to do is feel something I haven’t felt before.  Touch the headstones of those I have such affinity for, the land, the castles that I am so drawn to.  Scotland calls me.  Those “who love me” say things (like above) and then I relent, think, OK, I’m being selfish... I have been selfless for as long as I can remember.  Maybe I’m finally done with the mind games, and selfishness on their parts.  How much can one person be responsible for, and for how long?  I feel like a pawn and a fucking idiot.  

The pandemic will play out, I suppose, and we’ll see if I get my birthday trip.  My escape, even for a bit.

I’m not sure how much longer I can take.

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OMG Family Coming Together...not

Guess what I had for lunch?  Dinner?  Breakfast??  My entire day’s nutrition was 3 bites of a half of a Subway sub.  No pity at all.  More aghast and appalled.  I have 2 grown children, 32 and 30 and an 11 year old grandson whom I’ve raised solely since he was 2-3.  

I live in an expensive area in the Baltimore suburbs because of the school my grandson will attend.  I spend far more than I would if i were alone, of course, but since no one else can suitably care for him, I’m on my own to ensure he is in a good school district.  IT IS ALL ABOUT HIM.

His mother recently moved back in.  She’s been in another state for a year or so, and another country for a few other years.  I have no problem taking care of him.  I love him more than my life.  He’s everything.

It’s been, well, maybe never, since my daughter, my grandson’s mother, has said “thank you.”  Just those two words.

Since she’s returned (I really don’t know the reason) my grandson has become more distant and wary or me.  I’m really not paranoid.  I’ve been raising him on my own most of his life.  My daughter is cold and never reaches out.  Ever.  It’s a 180 compared to the relationship I had with my mother (my best friend, my fiercest ally, my rock.)  She sees me more as an adversary and I don’t know why.  She’s been ad addict since age 13.  I’ve been by her always.  At 13 she had an abortion.  I was with her during it.  It’s one of the things I wish I could undo.  It was the most painful experiences of my life.  I didn’t know what it would be like.  I wasn’t physically experiencing it but that was my first grandchild.  It was so clinical.  Nothing sugar-coated.  I suppose it shouldn’t be.  I cried more than she did.  I sobbed during the 5 minute ordeal.  I thought it would be painful but not like that.  As we drove home in silence Broken by Seether and Amy Lee played, quite poetically.  A cruel irony. A song that will always make me think of that time. That awful, wretched time.  I will never forget or forgive myself for what might have been.  https://youtu.be/hPC2Fp7IT7o

So, here I am now, nearly 20 years after, my daughter still living under my roof.  My 30 year old son still living under my roof.  My 11 year old grandson who can live here forever.  

I feel like a stranger in my house.  My daughter’s coldness freezes the place to were I don’t want to leave my room.  I can’t get her to help me with anything unless I beg or threaten her.  She never communicates with me unless I instigate it and even then the response is short and to the point.  

Drugs changed her completely.  She is clean now I think.  But she was such a sweet, animated, loving little girl.  I have always been by her side, helped her in every way I could, yet she resents me.  I know she loves me but she has absolutely no empathy and it’s like she’s just a shell.  At times some of her will come out but not often.  Even with my grandson, and he seeks her love and attention more than anyone by far.

The headline - geez, I went on a tangent.  She texted me, “there’s garlic bread and pasta if you want any.”   Kind of like Mother’s Day.  She texted “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Is it me?? 

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I’m Not a Complete Train Wreck

...... just using this to vent. There is nowhere/no one else.

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I can’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep.  Being awake is waiting to not be awake.  I don’t know how I got here so quickly.  It’s not such a long story that has taken place in a little over 3 years.  Prior to 7/2018 I was a vibrant, active, happy woman.  I had coffee/lunch/etc with my friends, took my grandson to the playground/movies/etc.  I got my 8-10K steps in every day.  I’d climb the steep hills in my neighborhood with joy, strife and pride.

2018 was the year from hell.  I don’t see friends.  I don’t have friends.  I’ve isolated myself.  I don’t take my grandson to the movie or the park.  I don’t walk the hills.  I  barely get out of bed.  I am a shell out of what I was 3 years ago.  

My children, my grandson and I feel it.  It feels like an inescapable trap.  

No one wants to escape more than me but under the circumstances it just feels like I’m being slowly suffocated.  Being responsible for two adults, a child, and myself, in my condition just beats me down... further and further.

People scoff.  Snap out of it! Get over it!  It can’t be that bad!  We all have troubles!  Everyone has pain!  

Don’t compare yourself or anyone to someone else.  Everyone’s situation and journey is unique.  Unique.  Remember that, please.

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Rambling and Pie is sadly right.  This is horribly accurate.  You will have to pay a lawyer or company who provides lawyers to be your advocate to have a change at receiving what you are due.  SS, SSI, SSDI are not gifts.  We paid into this system!

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If anyone says this to me, seriously, I’ll punch them in the face.

So, I finally made an appointment with a “pain doctor.”  I’ve seen one previously, That was a joke - a really sad one.  I walked in and people were glassy eyed - drug addicts.  They were coming to get their legal narcotics.  I saw this doctor for 10-15 minutes tops, and told him straight up I dod not want narcotics.  I’d had injections in my shoulders and knees.  My family, me included, has a compulsive personality, so becoming addicted to anything (food, shopping, alcohol, drugs, etc. — oddly I hate gambling.. I suppose because I prefer to keep my money) so that would just be stupid.  I’m almost positive I didn’t get a prescription of any kind yet on my way out they wanted to me take a drug test.  Why?  I wasn’t getting anything nor had I ever been there before.  Foolishly I acquiesced.  (Today I’d say hell no… live, learn, and, truly, with age comes wisdom.)  I got a bill a week or so later and the urine test alone was over a thousand dollars.  Scan much?  How do people like that sleep at night?  They aren’t any better than dealers on corners; actually they’re far worse.  They took the Hippocratic Oath, which, in large, states that they (doctors) will cause no harm to their patients.  

Anyway, my appointment is with a very renowned physician in the pain management area in my area, and someone a good friend who recommended me to him years ago.  Of course, I wait until I’m in ungodly pain.  🙄 Sadly, the appointment isn’t until November 19th.  My orthopedic doctor, who can give me injections into my knees and shoulder cannot give them in my neck or back - thus the need for the pain management person.  This guy is in the same office and all this time I never knew that. When I called they said he didn’t talk new patients.  I said, “oh yes he does.  Call my PCP, call my orthopedist, get me in.” I’m not sure if they called anyone, but were likely sure I’d be a pain in the ass (I would) so I got a call back within an hour with an appointment.  I know getting a new patient is a bitch but I will not go to another quack (do they still use that term for shitty doctors?) and have got to get this pain under control.  My life has declined in so many ways because of the pain.  

So, here’s to hanging on until November 19.  Only 3 months and 8 days…. 

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This post is meant for purging.  Please do not read anything more into it.  

If you feel suicidal please call 800-273-8255 (US), go to https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org or https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines (International hotlines) or similar international resources at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines  

There is always hope!

I say “I don’t want to be here anymore,” at least 3-5 times a week.  I am not a drama-queen.  I’m not 16.  I’m 58 and know good times from bad times, and the typical ups and downs of life.  I’ve been hanging on by the tips of my nails for years.  OK, I admit, I did attempt suicide once mixing alcohol, and other prescription meds (in abundance) and still failed.  I woke up with a shaved head, bruises all over my body, and passed out but woke long enough to yell to my adult son (30) to please help me up.  He said I should just lie there.  Don’t get me wrong, he does love me, even though it sounds awful - and it is.  My adult daughter (32) also loves me but after 15+ years of hard drug use (heroin, cocaine, who knows what else) she has zero empathy, even for her amazing son who my son and I have raised since he was 1.  All three of them are living under my roof.  I am the only one paying for anything.  This has been the case for over 3 years. 

2018 was the year from hell.  My mother (my best friend, my advocate, my ally, the one person I could turn to and tell anything) passed in March.  That whole event has so much more to it and I have still not recovered from it. In May I moved from a huge 3 bedroom apartment to a huge 2 bedroom apartment because my daughter was moving out, and it saved me $300+ a month.  (It is now 3+ years later and because of the timing, my grieving, illnesses and lack or support, my room is in complete disarray.  Nothing has ever been organized, and is an aesthetic train wreck.  I’m a Libra.  Aesthetics are important.)   In late July I had gastric bypass surgery (which I regret for so many reasons to this day) and one day after being discharged from the hospital after the surgery was rushed by ambulance because of double pneumonia (my oxygen saturation was 70).  I was in the hospital for 2 weeks.  These twits (or as one of my favorite people on Twitter would say, “twatwaffles,” I don’t know - it cracks me up) focused only on the pneumonia and I would have to continuously remind them when they wanted me to eat a hamburger or take a big ass pill - I just had gastric bypass surgery days ago! No one paid attention.  It was insane.  It’s amazing I survived it.  I couldn’t speak at all, no voice, and would have to whisper and beg for shit as simple as oxygen or water, while they continued, and did, throw big ass pills down my throat.  Looking back I have no idea what I was thinking.  I’m sure they could have given all of it through the IV.  By the end I had no veins that would give blood.  I was recovering from major surgery dickwads!  Somehow I made it out alive.  Spent 8-9 months in bed recovering. I left the hospital, even though they wanted me to stay, and my oxygen was still under 90, but fucking hell I was also trying to recover from major surgery and no one seemed to remember that!  Being in bed so long left me with a pelvic hip tilt, yeah I didn’t know what it was either.  My right hip somehow rose higher than my left, based on how I crossed my legs or something, and being elevated by one of those triangular/big ass (again) foam pillows and puffing on my nebulizer seemingly non-stop.  It was an extremely fucked up time.  

When I finally did have the ability to get up and move around I was limping because of the hip thing.  My insurance wouldn’t cover physical therapy.  Seriously?  So what do I do?  Go back to limping and being in pain.  Shooting pain from my inner thigh.  Fun. That was mid-late 2019 now.  Are you really still reading this?  I did lose a lot of weight, which I regained about half of during the pandemic.  Hey, gastric bypass patients, did anyone tell you that 1 out of 5 patients become alcoholics?  Me either!  Cocksuckers.  If I could undo this, be fat, have my energy, outgoing and gregarious nature back, friends that I have shut down, I would be a much happier person.  Alas, life doesn’t work that way.

No idea what the future holds, but I know I need help, and people I can lean on, and who will listen and care.  You’d think that would be easy enough but it isn’t.

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Sex and music DO go together.  No matter what kind of music you like, it invokes feelings of some kind.  Sweetness,  Joy.  Power.  Cerebral.  Passion.  Pure fucking heat.  Not necessarily sex.

What music (style/band/singer/song) gets you in the mood or enhances sex? 

(Disclaimer: anyone reading this should be old enough to have had sex - so don’t be coy.)  PS: I will not be posting this sort of thing often, if ever again. 

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So what do I do now.....?

I'm 58.  I have two adult children and a grandson.  They are all living with me. My adult son, 30, has never worked or helped with finances.  He's been enabled so long he doesn't see it.  My daughter, 32, the mother of my unbelievable amazing grandson, has worked since she was 16, and works hard for the money (cue the incomparable Donna Summer) and I respect her for that more than she knows.  If it weren't for my grandson I'd have been long gone years ago.

Lately, I feel like I'm losing it.  This is the time in life when I should be enjoying things.  Less stress, and all that jazz.  Right?  It only seems to get harder.  When this comes up in conversation it seems that I "don't believe in" my son - he is very much a victim yet sees himself (or convinced himself) as someone who has hasn't had the right opportunities....., if only one person would believe in him..... Again, he's 30.  He had enough of school a few credits short of a BS.  He is ridiculously intelligent but fearful of so much.  Is not a "people person," and wants to join Greenpeace or something similar.  They aren't hiring.  It's always something.  

Ladies, moms, grandmas, dads, grandpas, your insight and suggestions would be helpful, even if I don't agree with it, it's something to think about.  Please help.

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I’ve had the most vivid dreams my entire life.  I used to write pages and pages of the details in a book.  Lately, I’ve thought of keeping track of them again.  I don’t know if they mean anything but they are mostly hysterical, with lots of famous people, innumerable shenanigans.  Sometimes they aren’t so funny or happy.  Recently, I had a horrific dream about my mother.  Her passing still causes me great pain, guilt and grief.  Thankfully, the majority are illogical (?), ridiculous, and funny.  I’ve seen online “dream journals.”  Does anyone have any experience with any?  I know I could simply type it up on Word, and wear my hand out by writing it into a notebook, but sharing them could be cathartic as well as having others understand them in ways I don’t.

Any suggestions?

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Funny thing, Led Zeppelin was HUGE in my teen years.  I had friends who, when I went to their houses, had Led Zeppelin, seemingly, playing non-stop.  I thought at the time, OK, if I hear (that song) I’m going to scream.  Later, I would learn that (that song) was Kashmir.  Now one of my favorite LZ songs.... my god, those strings, Plant’s vocals, if only ANY of today’s singers/bands could come up with something as powerful, unique, meaningful. Listening to this now, Kashmir is ridiculously good.  Bonham is insanely great. The greatest IMO. (Not until just now did I realize it was 8:37 long. Fucking masterpiece.)  Stairway to Heaven is 8:03.  And people complained about Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody being 6 minutes long??

Stairway to Heaven is, of course, a favorite, for so many reasons.  The lyrics, Page’s solo, Bonzo killing it, as always, Plant’s vocals.  Black Dog is another favorite.  

Bonham on drums and Page on his guitar shine in Black Dog.  One of my favorites.  I’m not sure any band ever had what Led Zeppelin had.  In sync, times infinity.  Truly.

What gets me the most about them is the synergy.  They were meant to be together and create the music they did.  Yet, the fact that that Plant, Page, and Jones chose to disband after John Bonham’s tragic death is what makes this band, and the people that make up the band so special.  They could’ve replaced Bonham (with no one a fraction as talented) to keep things rolling.  Yet when Bonham passed they knew the sound could never be replicated, but more importantly, John Bonham was irreplaceable.  They disbanded. Bravo.

Why do other bands find it so easy to replace a pivotal member? Queen, the band QUEEN, ended after Freddie Mercury left us.  They still tour as “Queen” plus Adam Lambert - and nothing against Lambert, he has always been gracious and completely respectful of Freddie, saying he is not singing as or replacing Freddie, but more as a tribute to him in his own way.  Not sure what the rest are doing except cashing in on the supreme showman and ultimate vocalist. As for other bands who’s stars didn’t pass but simply left, for whatever reason, i.e. Journey - again, Journey ended when Steve Perry left.  There is no Journey without Steve Perry (even though they tried to get someone who sounded like him - cheap) just as there is no Queen without Freddie Mercury.  

Loyalty. Integrity. Respect.

Good Times Bad Times, though not one of my top 5 LZ songs, it crazily shows the connection and power of Page and Bonham.  They are both insane on that track. 

But, the ultimate Bonzo song is Whole Lotta Love.  Just listen. Just listen. Oh Em Gee.  Page too, of course.

Watch how Jason Bonham (John Bonham’s son) is received by the remaining three, when Jason, along with Heart’s incomparable Ann Wilson, and sister Nancy, and Shane Fontayne bravely performing Page’s solo quite well. Click the link below to watch. That choir really shook Plant.  (I get a kick out of Regina, David Letterman’s wife keeping an eye on how they’re reacting.  I love Dave, and therefore, his wife must be amazing.)

LED ZEPPELIN at KENNEDY CENTER HONORS - Ann Wilson, Nancy Wilson, Jason Bonham, Shane Fontayne, et al.

For whatever reason (need there be one?) my favorite Led Zeppelin song is Immigrant’s Song.  It’s raw, I love to lyrics (couldn’t be more true today than they were 500 years ago.)  It’s in your face for 2 minutes, plus a some.  The whole band going full speed.  If anyone ever doubts Plant’s vocals - just give these lyrics a try at the same octaves.  See??  He gets a lot of focus because he’s (he is/he was) the lead vocal and he talked a lot more than everyone else but he has the pipes to back it all up.

Thank the goddess for those 12 years of music they made.  All of it.  Goddamn, Shangri-La.

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I really am trying...

This (Tumblr) is a source for mostly younger people, so I know my journalling won’t amount to much for most, but perhaps it will mean something to someone and they won’t feel so alone.  I wish I felt that way.  I feel very much alone.  I’m at an age where I should be thinking about where to have coffee with a friend and where people are still required to wear masks.  Is the dishwasher full of clean or dirty dishes?  I need to get bread and apples tomorrow.  Stuff like that.  Instead, I am almost 59, have illnesses that best the best of them.  I raised my two children, now in their 30s, by myself.  My ex-husband was here and there.  Mostly there.  He was never really “here” even when he we were married.  Rather robotic, and completely apathetic, whereas I am the absolute opposite.  I am always thinking about what I need to do, what my grown children need to do, what I need to do on behalf of my grandson, whom I care for.  “Care for..” “Raise..”  If a child who is not your own lives with you, you support and care for - do you not raise them?  This term has been of some debate lately.  He lives with me, I handle everything pertaining to school.  I feed him. I clothe him.  Yet the term “raise him” seems to be scrutinized.  It doesn’t seem anything I do is right.  To anyone.

My dream is to be in a one-bedroom cottage somewhere in rural Maryland, since that’s where my “kids” and grandson are, but at this point, does it matter?  I want peace.  I want to be able to live my own life.  Enjoy the 20 or so years I have to do what I want to do.  I spend my money on supporting everyone and can’t save a nickel for myself.  

That lack of empathy I mentioned earlier seems to run through the genes otherwise they (my adult children) would have remedied this many years ago so I wouldn’t be under such stress.  I see myself fading away.  Illnesses piling up, and getting worse yet nothing on their end changes.  

I’m tired.  I will continue tomorrow.  

I so miss my mother.  I wish I could talk to her.  Ask her advice.  She would call them and yell at them.  She is the only one who would.  I love her so much.  Please appreciate those who love you and whom you love.  Don’t take a day or an hour for granted.  Pick up the phone and tell (whomever) you love them.  Go see them.  Hug them.  Kiss them.  They will be intangible too soon.  Trust me.  Life is fleeting. Don’t take anything or anyone for granted.  Even if they don’t tell or show you how they feel - tell them.  

sx

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OK come on.  I did a variety of searches: #over50 #over40 - you get the point, and for those of us on the older side of the spectrum there are very, very few groups or people.  I’m still figuring this place out but any tips or hints would be appreciated!

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That’s how I’m feeling right now.  A father who was sexually abusive.  A sister who was always jealous and hateful -- and to my saint of a mother, who she wouldn’t speak to up to her death (20+ years).  My children who think only for themselves - live with me, I raise my daughter’s son, and no one has helped financially, at all, for at least 5 years.  

The only person I could ever count on; always count on, was my mother, who passed away in 2018.  A huge piece of me passed with her, in every way.  She was my biggest advocate, my ally, the ONLY person I could turn to with anything, she always had my back.  She was my best friend, and not a day goes by without me crying out for her.  The Phoenix Suns thing is something I would’ve called her about - only she would understand how important it was, how easy it would’ve been for my son to tell me the fucking game is on, how unimportant I am but how vital my bank account is.  

I’m starting to fade away.  I long, I ache for my mother.  She would make things OK. She would understand.  For the next (however many) years, I will need to find a way to deal with this bullshit.

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Phoenix Suns

First of all, huge congrats to my home team!!!  I haven’t been to Phoenix in 30 years but it will always be home.  Quite unbelievably, my adult son casually mentioned, “the Suns won,” knowing I’d been watching them throughout the playoffs, and I know that he couldn’t care less who wins.  What is more painful than missing the game is that my son wasn’t thoughtful enough to bring it to my attention: “the Suns game is on,” something like that?  Nope.  Yet that’s how my kids have always been taught.  I always make everyone aware of something I know they care about - that’s a horribly worded sentence but I’m typing through teary eyes and it’s the best I can do.  

Sadly, I’m an enabling mother.  I always have been, to the point of being used.  My two adult children think of themselves, and never of me.  For Mother’s Day this year, I received 1 text message.  This is not a boohoo post, although this blog will be mostly vents.  I’m miserable.  I fake it to almost everyone.  

I just want to be alone.